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I feel a novel coming on
Sep. 19th, 2006 11:48 amETA: Arrr.
I sent out a story today and will probably send another tomorrow. The current crop of revised stories before the next novel comes on me and I stop making short stories.*
The next novel is heading my way. I feel the eruption bubbling in my gut, got all the necessary research ducks lined up and quacking. And the Universe keeps sending things my way, things that would make a very good addition to Charged with Folly.
Does that ever happen to you? It seems like whenever I draw close enough to an idea that writing is imminent I'm suddenly surrounded by things to feed the idea: some odd crag of reality I can carve to my purposes, strange factoids that deepen and enrich existing plot/worldbuilding ideas, bits of dialogue and images from the every day world that I can adapt. It seems the airwaves, the books and magazines I pick up, the 'Net are suddenly full of stuff I need and can use.
Now, I know part of that may be that I'm in the frame of mind to notice these things, but it's weird nonetheless. And I much prefer the romantic notion that the Universe (or my Right Brain or Subconscious or Higher Self) is saying, "Do this one!"
But first, I have to finish that last aching groan-and-cut rewrite of Shivery Bones. It's actually going pretty well. I'm dead on my word-cut schedule and I dropped below an important psychological point last week: the novel is now less than 130k (from 143k). In fact, it's down to 126k at this point, and I'm only halfway through. I need to give myself as much wiggle room as possible because I'll want to add a couple of pages at the front of the novel for the new prologue-short chapter one. (It's not a prologue, as it takes place just before the action portrayed in the old chapter one.)
And then I'm never rewriting SB again unless someone pays me to (or asks nicely). I said that before about SB, right before I sent it to Tor and they requested a full, but I mean it this time. Really!
Random quotes of the day:
"May we not then sometimes define insanity as an inability to distinguish which is the waking and which the sleeping life? We often dream without the least suspicion of unreality: 'Sleep hath its own world', and it is often as lifelike as the other."
—Charles Dodgson
"The wealthy are grouped together because it gives them a warm feeling to look upon others of their own kind. The poor are lumped together because they have no choice."
—Peter David, Sir Apropos of Nothing
*Not my choice. I just can't seem to concentrate on stories and novels at the same time. Wish I could.
I sent out a story today and will probably send another tomorrow. The current crop of revised stories before the next novel comes on me and I stop making short stories.*
The next novel is heading my way. I feel the eruption bubbling in my gut, got all the necessary research ducks lined up and quacking. And the Universe keeps sending things my way, things that would make a very good addition to Charged with Folly.
Does that ever happen to you? It seems like whenever I draw close enough to an idea that writing is imminent I'm suddenly surrounded by things to feed the idea: some odd crag of reality I can carve to my purposes, strange factoids that deepen and enrich existing plot/worldbuilding ideas, bits of dialogue and images from the every day world that I can adapt. It seems the airwaves, the books and magazines I pick up, the 'Net are suddenly full of stuff I need and can use.
Now, I know part of that may be that I'm in the frame of mind to notice these things, but it's weird nonetheless. And I much prefer the romantic notion that the Universe (or my Right Brain or Subconscious or Higher Self) is saying, "Do this one!"
But first, I have to finish that last aching groan-and-cut rewrite of Shivery Bones. It's actually going pretty well. I'm dead on my word-cut schedule and I dropped below an important psychological point last week: the novel is now less than 130k (from 143k). In fact, it's down to 126k at this point, and I'm only halfway through. I need to give myself as much wiggle room as possible because I'll want to add a couple of pages at the front of the novel for the new prologue-short chapter one. (It's not a prologue, as it takes place just before the action portrayed in the old chapter one.)
And then I'm never rewriting SB again unless someone pays me to (or asks nicely). I said that before about SB, right before I sent it to Tor and they requested a full, but I mean it this time. Really!
Random quotes of the day:
"May we not then sometimes define insanity as an inability to distinguish which is the waking and which the sleeping life? We often dream without the least suspicion of unreality: 'Sleep hath its own world', and it is often as lifelike as the other."
—Charles Dodgson
"The wealthy are grouped together because it gives them a warm feeling to look upon others of their own kind. The poor are lumped together because they have no choice."
—Peter David, Sir Apropos of Nothing
*Not my choice. I just can't seem to concentrate on stories and novels at the same time. Wish I could.